


Return

by FryeFox



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Jack is a Little Shit, M/M, Nicholas St. North is Jack Frost's Parent, Oblivious E. Aster Bunnymund, Parental Toothiana (Guardians of Childhood)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-06 04:19:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19055107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FryeFox/pseuds/FryeFox
Summary: An alternate universe where Jack Overland is Bunny's favourite believer before his death, and Bunny doesn't recognise him when he meets him again him as Jack Frost.





	1. Before

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written fanfiction before, but I really want to start! I love this pairing so much, and I hope you like this fic! Does anyone else still ship them these days? Oh well!
> 
> Jack is 18 in this story, and Bunny is Pangea age chronologically, but he's physically in his mid 20's.

Aster's paws gripped nervously at the edge of the fragile roof as he peered down at the door below, waiting. He didn't know when it started, but seeing the goofy brunette had become the highlight of his week. 

Between exploring the natural world for new patterns for his easter eggs, and meeting up with the other guardians to discuss whatever issues had come up, or to just spread whatever gossip there was to be had (typically brought about by North and a few glasses of vodka), he didn't always have the time to see his favourite believer.

Right now, he was hoping the brunette would come out before the protesting roof gave way underneath him.

"Hey, Cottontail!"

Aster nearly had a heart attack as he flailed, trying to steady his balance on the roof, which was screaming under the movement of his weight. He could hear the grin in the boy's voice, the little shit.

"Wh-?! Where did you come from?!" He scrambled off of the roof, landing in the soft, snow covered ground below. Fuck it was cold. He had no idea how Jack could stand existing in this weather without shoes on and with only a cloak draped over his shoulders to shield him from the cold.

Aster had a full coat of fur, and he could feel the icicles forming in his fur.

"I came from your dreams, Rabbit" the boy grinned, leaning on his Shepard's hook. Aster rolled his eyes at the nickname, but smiled anyway.

"I thought you'd still be inside."

"Had to round up half the sheep for sheering.

"In this weather?! Poor things are gonna freeze! Have you no heart, Jackson?"

Jack laughed and shook his head. His laughter was such a lovely sound. It always warmed the old Pooka's heart.

"They'll be fine, I promise. The village needs more wool to spin for blankets and clothes, since it's been getting colder. So! What are you here to bother me with this time, Cottontail?"

Aster pulled his travelling sketchbook out from a small pouch sewn to his belt. The entire book was thick and warped from pages littered with watercolour paintings, and was tied up with a twine bow to keep the thing from falling apart. He really was due for a new one soon. Maybe he'd ask North.

"Wanted t' go over some patterns with you for this year's lot. I trust your judgement." Aster waved the book in Jack's direction, watching Jack's eyes light up.

"You really shouldn't, but yeah, I would love to take a look at your paintings!" Jack made to reach for the sketchbook, and Aster quickly snatched it away, much to Jack confusion.

"With your eyes, not your hands, ya gumby!" Aster tended to be quite protective of his artworks, and the book was already so fragile. 

Jack looked a little too excited to be as careful as he probably thought he would be with it.

Jack pouted and crossed his arms, but it quickly faded into a grin, and Jack was practically bouncing as he lead Aster to sit against the wall of a house that sheltered them from the winds.

"How has your sister been?"

"Sarah? She's been great! She really wants me to teach her how to skate, and I've finally saved up enough from the shepard work and other chores to get the shoesmith to make her a pair of ice skates!"

Aster smiled. Jack always lit up when he spoke about his little sister. From what Jack had told him in the past, Jack was the oldest of 7 children, which, wasn't a lot of kids from a Pooka's standpoint, as they usually had multiple litters of around 5 kids, but knowing that humans gave birth to one child at a time, and that it almost killed them everytime, that sounded like a huge number.

Sarah was Jack's favourite though, and Jack would always talk about how he was taking her to the woods to see how close they could get to the deer that lived there, or that he was teaching her how to cook, and that they almost burnt the house down, much to his parent's fury. Aster grimaced at the memory of a 12 year old Jack running towards him with a tray full of blackened biscuits, Sarah in tow, demanding he try one of the rock hard coal lumps that lined the tray.

"Glad she's doing well, mate. Now..." Aster leaned back against the wall and untied the string holding the book closed, opening it to his newest patterns. These ones had all need inspired by his latest trip to the Ottoman Empire. The pages were littered with beautiful ornate designs of blues and reds and whites that swirled across every page.

Jack gasped at the pages and pointed to a work that had been inspired by the hanging lights he had seen during his trip 

"That one is so beautiful! And the colours all fit together so perfectly! Where did you get the idea for these ones?"

Aster told Jack all about his trip to the Ottoman Empire, how the streets were filled with beautiful buildings and how the scent of spices from the marketplace hung in the air wherever you went. Jack hung on his every word, having never left the country before, or even his village anymore than a little ways into the woods. Aster wished more than anything that he could take the young boy with him, and see the lights shine in his eyes as he saw everything the world had to offer him, and got to experience the many different cultures that occupied the globe.

But, they both had responsibilities, and Aster couldn't exactly get permission from Jack's mother before taking him, being invisible to her, as well as being a 6'1 rabbit shaped alien being a factor.

Jack leaned into Aster, pressing his face into warm, soft fur, and Aster's heart skipped a beat, and he could feel the boy start to drift off. Long day at work, Aster presumed. He smiled and tied his sketchbook back up, and slotting it back into the small pouch on his belt. He let the boy use his shoulders as a pillow, deciding to wait until Jack woke up, or Sarah found him and woke him up.

Yep. Jack was his favourite.


	2. Then

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bunny has been busy planning for the upcoming Easter and going to the North enforced meetings, and doesn't come back to visit Jack until a month later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again everyone! Chapters after this one are gonna be posted at random because I'm super busy with year 12 stuff rn and it is absolutely killing me lmao speaking of which :)
> 
> A warning, there are mentions of internalised homophobia in this chapter. These views are not at all my own, but are the views of the time.

It was a month before Aster returned to Burgess. His days that month had been filled with the rush of Easter preparations as Winter began to come to a close. His days consisted of carefully painting millions of eggs by hand as fast as he could with the new designs he had scouted from across the globe.

His days were also filled with meetings surrounding Pitch and glasses of vodka handed out by a very insistent North. Pitch was still at large, though belief and the fear tied to him was finally starting to die off. Pitch had started showing up around the guardians while they were working, especially when it came to Sandy and Tooth.

Sandy reported to the group that he kept seeing him standing on rooftops nearby him, just staring at him. Watching. Tooth told them about how her fairies had been reporting seeing Pitch vanish from the corners of the rooms of children when they came to collect the teeth. His belief was dying, weakening him, but they were still on high alert. They were all unsure of whether or not it was just to threaten them, or if he was planning something, but it was safest for them to believe the latter. To stay on their toes.

Every meeting would start with the Guardians turning up at North's place at the pole, which Aster would complain about due to the intense cold that Tooth and Sandy really didn't seem to mind at all. North would greet them all with rib crushing hugs and hard slaps on the back, and bring them all inside into the workshop, right in front of the nice, warm fireplace across from the globe that stood proudly in the centre of the room. 

Tooth would be chattering to her fairies in the corner, who all came and left after she gave them their locations. Sandman would be catching up on some much needed sleep (did fallen stars need sleep?) And Aster would warm his paws in front of that warm, toasty fireplace (the only pleasing thing about this godawful, Christmas themed wankbox of a workshop) and North would call for his elves to bring them his best vodka ("top shelf, Dingle!" He'd yell in his big, boisterous voice to his elves. Were they all called Dingle? They all seemed to respond to it.)

After North had poured them all glasses, they would get down to business, discussing how to best maintain the safety of the children, any Pitch news, and gossip on the other spirits. Apparently the Groundhog had finally moved on from harassing Aster and started chasing some poor water nymphs tail instead. Poor sheila, whoever she was, and North and Tooth would end up cuddled up together on the loveseat and would coo sweet nothings to each other at the end of the meetings, most likely the product of 3 glasses of vodka each. 

At that point, Aster and Sandy would leave them in the hands of the Yetis and Tooth's fairies, and Aster would return to his Warren to work on painting the egglets. It wasn't long before Easter started, and he still had so little time. He'd realise after the 1000th or so egg that Jackson was swarming his thoughts again, and he'd wave them away to keep pushing though the painting before he'd have to call it quits. He'd visit Jack when his workload had lightened a little. Might make an egg especially for him, too, something with a snow scene, seeing as the boy loved ice skating so much, practically gliding like an angel on the ice, like he was made for it, and it was made for him. Yes. He'd do that.

************

It was a month before he returned to Burgess. But it would be worth it, he told himself, to see Jack again and to see his face light up and the early Easter gift that Aster had brought for him.

He popped up out of a tunnel into Jack's backyard, and scrambled up onto the roof to protect his feet from the snow covered ground. Jack would be at the field right now, so Aster would have to wait. Unless Sarah came back from school first, then he'd happily talk to her before seeing Jack. To pass the time, he painted an egglet, it's little legs swinging happily, as if it was laughing as Aster painted quick, brown strokes along its sides with his brush, working on a forest scene for this egg. He washed his brush in the small carry tin with water and went back in with a darker brown to carve out the details of the bark.

"Mr Bunnyman?"

Aster jumped, the egglet almost falling from his paws. He quickly caught it and looked down at the small voice.

Sarah.

She was looking up at him with big, sad eyes. They almost looked red, like she'd been crying. Her normally brown dress and hairband had been replaced by a black dress and bonnet. Churchwear. Her nose was red and she sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her sleeve.

"Hey, are you okay?" Aster asked, tucking the egglet into the pouch on his belt and climbing down from the roof. "Other kids picking on you? Because believe me, I'll give them a talking to if-"

"Jack."

Aster paused, unsure how to respond. Jack? What about Jack? Was he alright? Aster's stomach fell at a memory that hit him, when 3 years ago, Jack confided in Aster that he was gay. When he sobbed his eyes out into Aster's fur until it was soaking with Jack's tears, and begged him not to hate him for committing such a terrible sin. When he told Aster that they would kill him if they found out, hung in the town square just like the murderers and rapists were. Aster had gently stroked Jack's hair and promised him that he wasn't a sinner, and that it was perfectly normal for him to feel that way. He promised Jack that no one would hurt him. That no one would find out.

What if they did find out? He promised. What if Jack had been hung? That Aster had instilled Jack with false hope?

"What... What about Jack?" 

Her face screwed up as she fought back tears that threatened to start streaming down her face. She rubbed her wet eyes before she reached forward and took Aster's paw, leading him in the direction of Jack.

************

Jackson Overland Froztiv, is what the makeshift wooden tombstone read. 1694-1712.

He stared at the tombstone, Sarah's words running through his mind.

They had gone out to the ice to skate, just like Jack had told him. He had bought her a pair of skates, and wanted to get a quick lesson in for her before the ice melted as spring approached. The ice had been too thin. It had started to crack underneath her. Jack had thrown her from the ice breaking underneath her to the edge of the pond, before the ice broke underneath him.

He had saved her.

He was gone.

The lake was too dangerous for any of the townsfolk to remove his body from the lake, so the town instead left his body there at the bottom of the lake, deciding that they would remove him when the water warmed, and they'd give him a proper burial.

The gift he was planning to give to Jack seemed cruel now.

Sarah stayed with him, her arms wrapped around him while she sobbed into Aster's stomach. Poor kid, having to watch her brother die. Having to watch him go under and not come back up. Having to hear the townsfolk tell her mother that "there's nothing we could have done." Having to grow up without Jack's wonderful light surrounding her.

Jack was doomed the moment that ice broke under him.

After a few hours, Aster heard Sarah's father calling for her, and she apologised and gave him one last hug before wiping her nose on her sleeve and running off back home, leaving Aster to mourn.

The only thoughts that we're currently going though his mind at the moment, were Jack's warm brown eyes, and his cheeky smile that screamed mischief and fun.

Aster would never see those features ever again.

************

He told them at the next meeting about Jack. They all understood. They'd all had to go through the pain of losing their favourite believers before.

Tooth sat next to him on the loveseat, rubbing his shoulder soothingly with her hand as she recounted to him when her favourite believer, a small boy from the Lordship of Ireland who took amazing care of his teeth, had contracted the plague a century ago. How she watched the light slowly leaving his eyes everyday she visited him. How his tiny body slowly wasted away in that tiny infirmary bed. How those oozing patches covered more of him every day, and how every tiny movement caused him so much pain. He had asked her to take the last of his baby teeth, to keep his memory alive. 

His name had been Connor. He had had bright blue eyes and tanned skin from working in the fields with his da. She described his laugh as "wonderfully pig-like" which he guessed was a good thing. She recounted the story to him with eyes full of sorrow, and a smile on her face as she told him about how tough he was, and how hard he fought to get better.

He didn't.

North sat next to him, squeezing Aster between the two of them. He told Aster about a girl from Spain, with a radiant smile and thick black eyebrows. He told him about how the little girl he doted over as a child grew up into a sweet young woman. How she had gotten married to the town butcher, and how they had had 5 beautiful children, one of them named Norte, who she passed his story onto. She had continued to speak to him and see him, even after she had grown up. He told them about how he watched her grow old and forget him as her memory left her. Soon after him, she forgot her children, then her husband, and then, finally, herself.

Sandy smiled gently over at him, images flashing above his head, explaining that he never had a strict favourite, but they all understood. They were all there for him, and they'd always be there for him.

Aster left the meeting early to return to the Warren. He pulled the egg for Jack out of his belt's pouch and turned it over in his hands. He looked across the Warren at the eggs still needing painting. 

He didn't feel up to it. Not yet. He needed time.


	3. Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aster hears a familiar laugh when he re-emerges in Burgess on Easter Sunday, 1968. The owner of this laugh, however, isn't who he hoped it would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I absolutely adore the comments you guys leave! They really inspire me to keep writing. I'm so glad you like this so far!

Laughter.

His laughter.

\--------

Aster had surfaced in Burgess, North America. It was his first time returning here for around 300 years, following Jack's death. Come to think of it, he hadn't been out in the field ever since he finished building the tunnels 100 years ago. There was no need to, with the egglets being able to deliver and hide themselves in the locations he had marked off all around the globe.

He had been right in the middle of sending out the egglets through the tunnels when a blast of cold had shot violently through the tunnel leading out to the small, sleepy town of Burgess, the force of the wind shooting egglets into the air and back into the warren, where they shattered on impact. A winter spirit. It had to be. Most likely one of the ones who were close pals to that grubby little groundhog, who seemed to be out to ruin Aster's life after Aster decked him during North's 1926 Christmas party. That was a story for another time, though.

The surface had changed so much as compared to 300 years ago. The original structure of the village and its charming little cabins were gone. The place where Jack's house had once stood was now a carpark outside a huge building with a sign at the front reading "Burgess Elementary School" in huge black letters. Much of the forest that had surrounded the tiny village was gone, making way for housing and shops, and the roads that connected them all. The one building he recognised was the old church, extended with wooden panels to fit the growing town population.

That wasn't his concern, though. His concern was the massive portions of snow that blanketed the town, weighing down everything around him. Trees that should be showing their first signs of life with the coming of spring were as dead as they were in the heart of winter. 

Aster reached for the bark of a nearby tree that immediately started pushing against the warmth of his paws. Cold winds rushed around him, biting at the skin beneath his fur, reminding him of how he felt whenever he exited the tunnels into the pole for one of North's meetings.

The temperatures had plunged to arctic levels.

At the beginning of spring.

Definitely a Winter spirit, and a very powerful one at that. Probably the Snow Queen, who had demonstrated her ability to cast an eternal winter in the past with the ice age. Yes. She was the most likely culprit, especially with how close she was with that bloody groundhog.

Now he just needed to find her.

She had to be close, considering that this town was the centerpoint for where the late winter spiraled out from across North America. Aster pulled his paw from the tree, who started shivering as his paw left its bark, and headed off down the street, looking for the winter themed Queen, or any of her little ice made pets that seemed to trail her wherever she went.

Aster stayed alert, keeping his ears open and his hand on his boomerangs as he trudged through thick snow. Every step made a crunching sound, making Aster cringe. So much for trying to be stealthy. He got down on all fours, deciding to sacrifice stealth for speed. He wouldn't have to worry about her hearing him first if he could very easily dodge her attacks.

Then, he heard it.

Laughter.

His laughter.

The sound was coming from the roof of the church, echoing through the town, almost drowned out by the screaming of the wind that whipped around him. The voice was moving, sliding off the church roof and into the streets of the sleepy town. He turned his attention from finding the snow queen to the direction of the laughter, as thoughts of Jack filled his head. He knew in his gut that it couldn't be Jack, as his favourite believer was long dead, but that didn't stop him from holding out hope. That's what he's known for, after all. 

Could Jackson have become a ghost? A memory of another time, left to replay the same moment for the rest of eternity? It was possible he had been brought back as a vengeful poltergeist, due to his body not being laid to rest until the ice melted.

He'd get to see those rich brown eyes again. He'd get to hear that voice again. The face that was beginning to fade from his memory, he'd see it, even if that voice was looped and unresponsive. Even if Jackson was left furious and vengeful. Aster bolted as fast as he could towards the sound, his paws kicking out heavy, thick snow beneath him. His eyes flickered between streets and alleyways, trying to work out where the sound was coming from.

Finally, he located the sound, coming from an alleyway. Instead of the brown hair and eyes he was hoping for, he was greeted by pure white hair and bright blue eyes, which appeared to be frosted over.

A winter spirit.

The winter spirit he was looking for.

The spirit didn't look like much. Short and skinny with large hands and feet, wearing a blue hoodie that was frosted over and covered skin the colour of snow. The spirit was laughing softly, and his eyes were filled with tears. His cheeks and nose had a purplish hue to it. 

He had been crying. He was crying. Crying and laughing to himself.

Aster felt the hope he had been holding out for Jackson crumble away, and anger filled its place. He didn't know who this brat was, nor did he know what business it had blanketing all of North America in a blizzard on Easter Sunday, and then having the nerve to laugh. He stood up on his hind legs, straightening out, and drawing his shoulders back, pulling himself to his full height. He marched through the snow towards the spirit, who noticed him and immediately froze like a deer in the headlights, going silent and slowly cowering down and backing into the far wall of the alleyway. 

"You!"

"M... Me...?!"

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?! You bloody nitwit! Do you know what day it is!?"

The sprite was clearly terrified. His hands shielding his face, eyes shut tight, waiting for an attack. Aster leered over him, keeping him in the corner of the alleyway, his lips pulled back into a snarl.

"A-April 15th...?"

"Easter Sunday! It's fucking Easter Sunday! And I have so much to fucking fix because of you! You fucking twit, what is wrong with you?! Look around! You've wiped out a whole continent worth of egg hunts! You stupid- ugh!"

Aster punched the bricks beside Jack's head before wincing and pulling his aching knuckles away, blowing onto them to try calm the pain in his hand.

"I-I'm sorry...! I didn't mean to, I just-"

"Shut up! Just stop, okay!? Do you have any idea what you've fucking put me through with this!? Mother Nature is going to have a fucking field day when I tell her about your bloody BLIZZARD DURING SPRING!"

Aster coughed, the screaming scratching at his throat. His throat wasn't built for earth's languages, and it especially wasn't built for screaming like that. The winter spirit seemed to have registered the threat of bringing in Mother Nature, however.

"What?! No! No, please don't tell her! Please! Old man winter-"

"Oh, that old bastard is in on this too?! You two working together to try mess with my holiday, huh!?"

"No, but he-"

"What's your name? Huh?"

"J-Jack Frost, sir, but-"

"Oh, did he tell you to say that!?"

"No, it's-" 

"Very fucking clever, but tell your old mate Winter that he got the last name wrong on his attempt to hurt me by dragging that old memory up! And you!" Aster jammed his clawed finger into the winter sprite's chest, his eyes burning holes into "Jack's".

"You better fix this. I'm going to tell Mother Nature about this, and she's going to lose her head when she hears about this."

Aster huffed, the action blowing the hairs on the spirit's head away from his face. His features looked so similar. That sharp jawline and small, button nose reminding him of a face he'd seen before, but not one he could put a name to anymore. He stepped away from him, tapping his foot on the snow covered ground, and opening up a tunnel.

"Better get to fixing this. Now."

He missed the spirit's cries of being unable to, as he lept into the tunnel, it closing up behind him, leaving an aster in his place, as he sped off towards the home of Mother Nature, in the hopes she could repair the damage.

\-------------

"Jack Frost?" The gigantic woman said, placing her enormous tea cup down onto the log shaped table that sat between the two.

"That's what he had the nerve to call himself! I tell ya, Nature, the guy and Old Man Winter destroyed my holiday and have cost me believers! You know how many kids are gonna wake up tomorrow without an Easter egg hunt?! You know how many googies I lost over this?!" Aster took a long drink from the straw that sat in his tea cup, which was too huge for him to pick up. The woman really needed to invest in some smaller cups for her guests. At least he knew he could relax while in here, as her husband Father Time created the area to exist outside of normal time. He could stay here for thousands of years, and it would appear as only a few minutes had gone by when he left.

Mother Nature hummed, and stared into her tea cup, as if the answer was waiting for her inside.

"No. Jack Frost is a good boy, a very sweet little one. He wouldn't have tried to ruin your holiday. Old man Winter, I can believe, but not my little Jack. Besides, Jack is not strong enough to bring down anything larger than a snow day for one to two towns, not all of North America."

"So he wasn't lying about his name, then? It's just a coincidence?"

"What do you mean, a coincidence?"

"I- that isn't important right now. Also, you're talking about him like he's your son, but when I told him I was coming here, he seemed right terrified. What's the story with that?"

The woman smiled shyly, green moss stretching across the branches and twigs that made up her face in what he assumed was a nervous blush.

"All life is my child, technically... Jack has never met me before, as I watch him sometimes through my eyes around the earth... He is such a lovely boy, full of life... Don't worry, Aster, you are still my favourite... But... The way he looks after those children on the lakes, it's so-"

"Children on lakes?"

"Yes. Jack freezes the lakes that the humans go skating on during the winter. So many children have been saved because of his actions. I think he would make a wonderful guardian, don't you?"

"No! Haven't you seen what he's done to my holiday! Ruined! And he's not that bloody great at his job when he let MY Jack DIE!"

"Jack Frost is a new spirit. He did not exist yet, when your favourite was living. Also, he didn't do this to your holiday. Jack plays little tiny pranks, nothing this careless and catastrophic. I will salvage what I can, but I ask that you do not take this out on Jack. This would have been the actions of Old Man Winter. Not Jack Frost."

Aster grumbled and took another gulp of his tea. He yelped as he felt two long branches of fingers reach down and gently stroked his ears, eliciting a purr that Aster fought to conceal to no avail.

"Be calm... All will be well... Now go home and prepare, and I'll fix the mess..."

Knowing he couldn't finish the tea in front of him, Aster straightened up and nodded, creating a tunnel. He gave one of her hands a quick hug, and shot out into the tunnel, heading home to his Warren to try salvage what he could of his broken holiday.


End file.
